


Burn

by believesinponds



Series: Domestic Bliss [12]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M, mick isn't doing so well, reference to pyromania
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-24 00:50:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6135758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/believesinponds/pseuds/believesinponds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Len can see that Mick isn't doing well.</p>
<p>[Reaction to <i>Legends of Tomorrow</i> 1x06.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn

**Author's Note:**

> That episode completely wrecked me. All weekend I tried to write some kind of reaction to it and I just...couldn't. It was too much to deal with. So I am sorry that this is so much later than usual but writing it definitely helped me deal with all my emotions from this episode and hopefully it will help some of you, too <3

“Gideon?”

The AI’s glowing face appeared in the corner of the room. “Yes, Mr. Snart?”

“Can you locate Mick for me?”

“Mr. Rory is currently in the recreation room. I believe he wishes to remain undisturbed.”

“I'm sure,” Len muttered. “Thank you, Gideon.”

He sighed and stood from the bed, the cold floor sending a shock to his system. The lights in the hallway were glowing softly and the ship was quiet as he padded down the hallway and stopped in front of the door to the rec room.

He sucked a breath in through his nose and pushed the door open.

“Mick.”

The man was lying on the couch with a lighter in his hand. He scowled. “What d’you want, Snart?”

Len crossed his arms and frowned. “You haven't been to bed in a while. Gonna stay in here now?”

“Yep.” He flicked the lighter open and a small flame appeared.

Len’s grown deepened. “Can't be very comfortable.”

Mick waved his hand over the flame and hummed.

“I did it for your own good, you know.”

The lighter snapped shut and Mick’s eyes shot up to Len’s face. “Fuck you.”

Len felt his jaw tighten. “You think I should've just left you behind? In some possibility of a future where you could play king to a bunch of low-lives?”

“You _shoulda_ stayed there with me.” His hand tightened around the lighter. “We could've been kings _together_.”

“That city was a wreck. Stealing ain't _stealing_ when there’s nobody around to take things from.”

“Fine. Then you shoulda left me.”

Len dropped his arms and took a menacing step forward. “We are _partners_ , Mick. We stick together.”

Mick shot up from the couch, his voice raising. “Well maybe I don't want to be your _partner_ anymore, Snart! It feels a lot like you bossin’ me around and I don't like it!”

“Well maybe I don't care what you want!” He raised his own voice to match Mick’s. “I ain't leaving you behind!”

“ _You've done it before!_ ” His words were guttural, like a roar, and Len felt his own fury rising.

“Yeah well that time _you. set. yourself. on. fire!”_

They were both breathing heavily, their chests rising and falling in an angry synchronization. Len was frustrated to find himself unarmed because in that moment he wanted nothing more than to point his cold gun at Mick’s dumbass head.

Then he remembered that shooting his husband would be an unproductive solution and he sucked in a breath, forcing himself to relax his shoulders.

Thing was, Mick was right. He _had_ left him before and it was a bit of a sore spot in their relationship. They had done a good job of ignoring it, but that wasn't really a productive solution, either.

Len studied Mick’s face, reading the tension there. He was struggling and Len _knew_ he was struggling. This mission had taken its toll on Mick more than anyone else and Len could see it. His eyes were sunken and his body looked heavy. Between Vandal Savage holding him at gunpoint and the Soviets torturing him and throwing him in prison, Mick was barely holding it together. It was only a matter of time before something snapped.

“Mick,” Len said, quieter and a little softer than before. “I’m not leaving you again. _Ever_.”

“So you knocked me out and dragged me back without my permission.”

Len took a step forward, his fingers twitching at his side. “ _Mick_. I’m not going to let you self-destruct, either.” He took another purposeful step forward and gestured between them. “We look out for each other. That’s the deal.”

Mick let out his own breath and clenched his fists, the lighter still peeking out of his right hand.

Len closed the rest of the distance between them, barely an inch of space separating their faces. He didn’t reach out to touch--Mick’s threat was still fresh in his mind and he knew that it was sincere. Instead he stared into Mick’s eyes, searching for something to work with, some spark that would clue him in on how to get through to his partner.

Silence reigned for two and half minutes and Mick’s eyes didn’t soften, but they did lose some of that frantic fire that had been present ever since the Soviet prison.

“You need help,” Len said.

Mick swallowed visibly.

“Let me help, Mick.”

He loosened his grip on the lighter.

“ _Please_.”

Something about his quiet plea got through. One moment he was staring into Mick’s eyes and the next moment Mick was kissing him desperately. He vaguely heard the clink of the lighter hitting the floor before he sucked in another breath and returned the kiss, the ache in his chest gradually subsiding.

They stood there, bodies and mouths pressed together, and Len lost track of how long they were kissing. It didn’t matter. He would stand here indefinitely if it meant that Mick would be there with him.

When they pulled apart Mick pressed his forehead to Len’s and let out a shaky breath. Len touched his face. “You coming to bed now?”

Mick nodded.

Len swooped down and grabbed the lighter from the floor, tucking it safely in his pocket. He took Mick’s hand in his and led him to their quarters. Gideon already had the lights dim and Len worked on removing Mick’s clothes, unbuckling his suspenders and pushing his jacket to the floor. He pushed Mick’s shirt up and over his head and smoothed his hands over his chest and arms. The familiar texture of scar tissue rose and dipped under his fingers.

Mick’s eyes were closed. His face was calm, calmer than it had been in some time, and Len took a moment to slide Mick’s pants down his hips before pushing him gently onto the bed.

“I don’t--” Mick began.

Len shushed him. “I know. Just lie down, Mick. I’m trying to take care of you.”

Mick looked at him for a moment and then nodded once and followed Len’s instructions.

“Gideon?” Len said, stripping down to his underwear and then climbing over Mick to settle in behind him. “Can you turn out the lights, please?”

“Of course, Mr. Snart.”

The room went dark. Len wrapped his arm around Mick and pulled him close, his back pressed flush against Len’s chest.

“Lenny, I’m--,” Mick began, but he didn’t seem to know where the sentence was supposed to go.

Len brushed his hand across Mick’s chest and whispered, “It’s okay, Mick. It’s okay.”

It wasn’t okay. They both knew that. But Len allowed himself to believe the lie because he knew that it _would be_ okay. He would be there for Mick no matter what and together they would make it okay again.

He pressed his lips to side of Mick’s neck and whispered the lie one more time.

“It’s okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, come chill with me on [tumblr](http://believesinponds.tumblr.com)!
> 
> COLDWAVE WEEK IS COMING SOON!  
> Check out the [blog](http://coldwaveweek.tumblr.com) for more details :)))))


End file.
